


If Only

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6578977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only... they would talk... it may or may not be as easy as this</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only

**Author's Note:**

> This might get extended at a later stage, I haven't decided yet.

“So what was it that you wanted to speak to me about that you couldn't say in front of Sam?” Dean rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, fighting back the haze of tiredness he felt there. He looked up to see Cas, arms folded, mouth in that almost-pout he'd taken to wearing so often of late as he leaned up against his bedroom door, far enough away from Dean for him to have to raise his voice a little.

 

Cas' eyes drifted up from where they'd been staring absently at the foot of Dean's bed, and narrowed. “You are tired, Dean. Perhaps another time,” he suggested in doubt.

 

“You're here now,” Dean pointed out, tipping his chin over to the end of the bed and the chair beside it. “Might as well sit at least. Feels like you're always on duty you hovering around all the time.”

 

“I do not wish to make you uncomfortable,” Cas told him softly, slowly peeling himself away from the door and taking small steps towards him.

 

“You don't make me uncomfortable, Cas. You make me feel guilty that I'm not always working like you do,” Dean said, offering him a smile. Cas returned it, lowering himself slowly to the chair after debating sitting beside Dean and thinking better of it.

 

“So,” Dean pressed, watching as Cas sat there in silence not quite looking at him. “What is it?”

 

“It is... difficult,” Cas decided, frowning harder to himself, his eyes resting somewhere in the region of Dean's chest.

 

“Shoot,”

 

Cas' eyes flickered up to his face, and saw Dean's roll.

 

“I meant. Tell me. What's going on with you?”

 

Cas nodded slowly, frowning harder still and sighed, to Dean's ear melodramatically. “I wished to discuss with you a situation that has come to my attention,” he tried, looking as though he was actually tasting his own words to see if they were the right ones to say.

 

“Trouble at home?” Dean guessed, wondering if that meant Cas was trying to tell him he'd be disappearing for a while. He tried not to let his heart sink at that thought.

 

“No, Dean.”

 

“Then?” Dean prompted again, carefully curbing his tone so that it wouldn't come out as impatient.

 

“Before I tell you. I need to assure you that I would never take advantage of any situation such as this one without complete and total permission.”

 

Dean shrugged, growing ever more curious. “I hear you,”

 

Cas nodded slowly again, and once more Dean wondered if Cas would ever get around to speaking at all.

 

And then,

 

“I believe. That is, I think. That it is possible. That...” and Cas' frustration at himself was evident as he dropped his hands to his lap with a soft thud.

 

Dean began to worry, and spun himself round from where he'd been stretched out along the bed to a sitting position with his feet flat on the floor. “C'mon, Cas. You're scaring me a little here,”

 

Immediately Cas' eyes shot up to meet his in guilt. “That is not my intention. I will keep this to my-”

 

“Cas,” Dean said, half laughing. “Just... out with it, okay? I can't... I can't help, if it's help you even need, if you don't tell me what's going on, can I?”

 

Cas' eyes narrowed a touch more, studying Dean's face. When he seemed to have found what he was looking for then he let his gaze drifted slightly, and cleared his throat, before fixing Dean with another gaze that was nothing but earnest.

 

“I believe I am experiencing attraction.”

 

Dean heard the whistle of his own voice catching in his throat and tightly gripped his hands against his own thighs to steady himself, despite being sat down.

 

“Attraction,” he repeated, watching as Cas nodded.

 

“Uh. To who?” Dean swallowed back the bile that pushed up against his throat, and waited, pleading with himself to not lash out with angry words laced with jealousy.

 

“To you, Dean,” Cas admitted softly, and damn, if Dean didn't want to sink in relief to hear that.

 

“To me,” Dean repeated again, a little pointlessly, watching as Cas nodded silently again. “You think you feel... attraction. To me. For me,” Dean said slowly, needing to be absolutely sure.

 

“I am more than certain that that is what I am feeling, Dean.”

 

“How... how can you be sure?” Dean asked, almost as if he daren't let himself believe it.

 

Cas let out a sigh and slumped a little where he sat. “I am... _feeling_ , Dean. Which in itself is... rare, for an angel. I suppose since Jimmy is no longer here I am more... clear. On what feelings are mine, and what were once his.”

 

“Okay,” Dean mumbled, stuck for something to say. “Feeling what exactly?”

 

Cas' eyes darted in something that looked a little like fear, and Dean curled his hands against his lap instead of reaching out, or doing anything else that at this stage might be stupid.

 

“I... this heart. It races when we are together,” Cas began, hesitating. “And I feel the urge to... touch you. To... feel your skin. To... kiss you, Dean,” he mumbled shakily, swallowing hard as he spoke.

 

Dean's own heart had sped up its pounding at Cas' words, and he clenched his fists a little tighter.

 

“I miss you greatly when I am not with you, Dean. I find myself thinking about you, and wondering what you may be doing when we are not together. And. If I allow myself to think of you. Or in... certain... situations. I...”

 

Dean sucked in a loud breath as Cas' eyes fell to his own lap before looking back up uncertainly.

 

“I feel arousal, Dean. For you,”

 

“I... see...” Dean said, pathetically.

 

Cas nodded to himself. “So you can understand. Why I did not wish to discuss this in front of Sam. I imagine this is uncomfortable enough-”

 

“I'm not uncomfortable,” Dean choked out quickly, shaking his head as he spoke.

 

Cas frowned, sitting perfectly still. “You are not,” he said, seeking the confirmation.

 

“No, Cas. I'm not.”

 

“You are not concerned that it will affect our... working relationship. My... unrequited feelings for you?”

 

“Woah, woah, what?” Dean laughed, holding his hand out to stop whatever train of thought Cas was having.

 

“I...” Cas said, full of doubt. “I promised that I would not act on this... situation. I need you to be comfortable enough for us to continue working together despite my... feelings.”

 

Dean let out a soft whine and let his head fall heavy into his hands. “Cas,” he laughed, looking back up tiredly.

 

“Dean,”

 

“Okay firstly,” Dean said, straightening himself back up to sit. “It's not gonna affect our 'working relationship', Cas. Well. I guess there's no guarantee of that, actually,” he said, frowning a little to himself as he said it.

 

“I understand,” Cas said softly as though Dean was asking him to leave there and then. He sighed, pressed his hands against his thighs and stood dejectedly, turning to go.

 

“Secondly,” Dean barked out in a panic, reaching out and snagging one of Cas' hands as he went to pass him.

 

Cas stared down at their entwined fingers, eyes full of surprise. He allowed himself to turn a fraction back to Dean and Dean did the rest, pulling him closer until he was standing directly in front of him and both of Cas' hands were held in his.

 

Dean kept staring at their hands, then nodded to himself, raising his head up slowly to look at him.

 

“Secondly,” Dean repeated, his voice now barely a whisper, “Who said anything about it being unrequited?”

 

***

 

“Dean?”

 

Cas' voice was small, and mistrustful, as though he couldn't trust himself to not be making a mistake in what he thought he was hearing.

 

“I feel the same too, Cas. That attraction thing. Kinda think I feel... that. For you too,” Dean replied, his face flushing crimson and a shy smile playing along his lips.

 

“You do?”

 

At the strangled, hopeful tone of Cas' voice Dean's smile split wider, and he squeezed Cas' hands gently as though to emphasise his words.

 

“Yeah. I do, Cas. I mean. I am.”

 

Cas continued staring back at him in surprise, his mouth falling open a little. Dean laughed softly, breaking their eye contact and shaking his head.

 

“Look at us doing the talking thing,” he said softly, squeezing Cas' fingers again.

 

“Why... why have you never...” Cas' words trailed away into yet another frown, and Dean nodded.

 

“Never said anything? I guess... I mean. I wasn't sure. What I felt. What maybe you felt. I mean. You're an _angel_ , Cas. Why would you ever look at me like _that_ , anyway? Guess I didn't think I'd get that lucky,”

 

Cas stared back at Dean, and the way even Dean seemed shocked at his own honesty, then cleared his throat.

 

“It is... an unusual situation,” he admitted, carefully, as though he wanted to check every single word before he let them out.

 

“But not... not unheard of, right?” Dean asked hesitantly.

 

“Not unheard of, no,” Cas agreed, his expression clearing slightly.

 

“And... you know. We've kinda got bigger problems to deal with than a load of. Uh... unresolved stuff between us,” Dean added.

 

Dean watched as Cas nodded slowly, and for a moment wondered if he'd mistakenly managed to talk Cas out of whatever he was thinking by pointing out an obstacle between them. But he kept watching, as Cas' expression softened further still, until he was smiling shyly down at him.

 

“I believe the purpose of the 'good fight' is to allow for moments such as this. Of happiness. Joy,”

 

Dean let his shoulders drop a little in relief and he squeezed their hands together yet again, before standing up slowly. Perhaps Cas' words would have normally come across as far too sentimental for Dean's liking but in that moment, they fit, exactly as they should. “So. If... If... would you let me kiss you, Cas? I mean. Would... would you know what to do?”

 

Cas rolled his eyes, dropping their hands and gently resting his on Dean's hips. “Dean,” he said, in a tone that Dean knew was full of teasing reprimand, “I am sure there are many things you believe me incapable of doing.”

 

Dean flicked him a nervous smile, shuffling slightly forward. “Guess it's wrong to assume, huh?” he said, eyes suddenly fixated with Cas' lips and unable to look anywhere else.

 

“Perhaps you should try and see if there are any gaps in my knowledge,” Cas suggested, shuffling infinitely closer himself.

 

At the challenge in Cas' voice, and the way it made something unfurl in his gut, Dean reached up with one hand to curl against Cas' jaw and leaned in, pressing their lips together. He immediately felt Cas respond, both with the pressing back of his own lips and the way his fingers dug lightly into his sides, closing the last of the gap between them.

 

Cas, Dean discovered, did seem to know exactly what he was doing. From the way he chased his mouth, flicked his tongue out against his lips demanding entry, pressed himself fully back against him and let out the most breathy of moans; the fantasies Dean might have had about somehow deflowering an angel were quickly and very happily replaced with thoughts of what Cas might actually teach him instead.

 

 

 


End file.
